Silence
by NurseKelly
Summary: The voices of the past, the sounds of our pain, are the loudest in the silence of the night. Madge is about to make a huge decision, but is it for the right reasons and does she have all the facts? This is a little something that has been sitting on my laptop for a while. Since one of my New Year's Resolutions is to write more, I'm putting this out there before I chicken out!
1. Chapter 1: Prayers

**Silence**

The voices of the past, the sounds of our pain, are the loudest in the silence of the night. Madge is about to make a huge decision, but is it for the right reasons and does she have all the facts?

**Chapter 1**

**Prayers**

Thanks to my betas, RoryFaller and Belle453. You ladies are in inspiration.

**_Disclaimer: _**I do not own the HG trilogy or any of the characters created by Suzanne Collins, although I sure wish I did.

Every day, the young woman prayed for peace. She prayed for a peaceful transition from tyranny to democracy for the new nation of Panem. She prayed for a peaceful rebuilding from the ruins of her home District 12. She prayed for peace of mind for her friends and what was left of her family who had fought so hard for this new world where justice and freedom were now possible. Selfishly, she prayed for peace in her own wounded heart, first broken by a brash young man and irreparably damaged by his death. As she silently returned to her cell in the cloistered monastery each night, she prayed the most fervently that any of this was possible.

The irony was not lost on her. During the war, she had fought alongside the freedom fighters from District 13 for a world she now chose to remove herself from. Her friends would marry who they chose, regardless of class distinction. Her friends would raise their children free of the fear of the Hunger Games. Their children could choose a life that suited them, not the demands of an evil dictator. However, she would do none of this, simply because she couldn't see herself marrying or raising children now that he was gone. Her friends could not understand that by even considering this life, she was also living a life that was not possible before the war.

In the new world of Panem, she no longer had to hide her faith. In secret, her mother had passed on to her a belief in one God, a benevolent and loving father. She had to admit that her faith in that God was sorely tested before and during the war. How could a loving God allow innocent children to die under any circumstances? After the war ended, she left her unit and eventually found herself on the doorstep of the monastery.

She welcomed the ritual of the Mass, of the monastic life itself. The community had provided the young woman with some semblance of serenity which had long eluded her in the dark days of the war. Despite her comfortable childhood, she thrived in the austere environment, taking no issue with the vows of poverty and toil.

Even the daily silence of the monastery from vespers until 9 a.m. the next morning was comforting, although initially it was overwhelming. Meditation did not come easily to the young woman, because her thoughts always strayed back to him. There were too many unanswered questions surrounding his death and her broken heart stubbornly refused to believe he was gone. After all, his body was not found in the wreckage of the hovercraft. However, the entire crew as declared missing, and eventually killed, in action and that was that.

Despite the messy end of their love affair, she had mourned his death along side his mother and siblings, cradling his baby sister in her arms as they both cried until there were no more tears left. When she announced her intention to spend time at the monastery after the war, his mother was the only one who understood. Having lost her husband at an early age, she chose not to remarry. The two women shared a bond in a sisterhood of sorrow, with the knowledge that no other man would ever measure up to the one who came before and it was unfair to even try.

It was this belief that prevented the young woman from officially becoming a novitiate and taking the first step in to the religious life. Mother Superior had spoken with her at length about this. "My dear, you cannot hide your hurt behind these walls," she said. The young woman was charged with the task of honestly examining her intentions and motivations. The young woman knew that she would not have considered this life, were it not for the destruction of the one she had hoped to build with him. Honesty was something she valued and that held her in a terrible limbo between the life that she had dreamed of and the life that she believed was possible.

She had prayed for peace, but deep down, she questioned if it was possible for her.

_Meanwhile, somewhere over Panem…_

"Can't this bucket of bolts go any faster," he bellowed at the hapless crewman. The teenager cowered in his seat, until the Second-In-Command expertly steered the furious General the rear of the hovercraft. The General was frantic and that was making it exceptionally hard for the crew focus. After all, the General was the one who always remained calm and this was more than a little bit out of character.

The Generals mood wasn't any better when he was away from the crew. "Don't say it Thom, just don't," he snarled at his Second-in-Command, as the General dragged his hand through his thick, black hair. "You know as well as I do why we have to get there yesterday," he said. Of all this mistakes Gale Hawthorne had made in his life, this was the biggest. The woman he loved was about to make a huge mistake, one of epic proportions, and he had to stop her, the security of Panem be damned.


	2. Chapter 2: Laundry

**Chapter Two**

**Laundry**

Thanks to my beta, RoryFaller. All mistakes are mine.

**_Disclaimer: _**I do not own the HG trilogy or any of the characters created by Suzanne Collins, although I sure wish I did.

The older woman serenely folded the towels, sheets and underwear in the massive pile before her, courtesy of her three remaining children. There was an equally massive stack next to her, folded beautifully— even the corners of the fitted sheets had a crisp, military precision. She silently snapped the towels and smoothed the pillowcases as she steadily made her way through the batch before her.

You can learn a lot about a person by their laundry, and the former laundress knew more than she cared to about some of the families in the former District 12. She kept their secrets, never letting on how much she knew about their lives as she returned the laundry to her clients. The wealthy were the only ones who could pay for her laundry services, yet she often felt that they were really the poor ones.

For example, the mayor's family of years ago was a far cry from the beautiful and loving family presented to the District. In private, the mayor was an austere, angry little man, who wore his clothing until it literally fell apart, miles away from the charming and gregarious man he was in public. His threadbare clothing reeked of the whiskey he consumed in private. His beautiful, doting wife was in fact very ill and getting worse by the day. She spent most of her time in bed, judging by the number of filthy night gowns and badly soiled sheets. They slept apart, given the sheer number of sheets and unbalanced wear patterns present in the weekly laundry.

Their talented, dutiful daughter was a plump teenager, who was as starved for love and affection as any of the other children in the district were for food. Her expensive, long-sleeved dresses were dotted with blood barely visible on the dark, somber colors but to the trained eye. She had a habit of cutting herself in secret places just so she could feel anything at all. Her laundry occasionally included blood stained towels and, occasionally vomit. (Years later, all of the woman's suspicions were confirmed by the mayor's daughter herself.)

The laundress was skilled at repairing rips and removing stains so her clients could maintain the flawless façade. If only it were possible to wash away the past as easily as she washed away the dirt and grime. If only people could emerge unscathed from their personal battles, to shake off the damage of daily disappointment and devastating defeats. Loss wears a person's soul as surely as repeated use weakens any fabric. Some stains to soul and fabric cannot be lifted.

That was a long time ago, before the war destroyed her home district and forced the relocation of her family to the underground of District 13. Now the only laundry she folds in her new subterranean home in District 13 belongs to her family, minus two very important members. She longs to feel the worn flannel work shirt of her long-dead husband or search for the missing sock belonging to her eldest son, recently killed it the rebellion. Their absence was never more present to her than when she was performing a mundane task such as laundry. The voices of the past are the loudest in the silence and solitude of an empty home.

There was an insistent rapping at her door just as she folded the last piece of her daughter's pile, a drab gray nightgown that the little vivacious girl despised. The woman's knees protested loudly as she made her way to the door of the cramped apartment. When she opened the thin door, a very excited young soldier stood before her. She recognized him as Myrtle Faller's son, Ben.

"Mrs. Hawthorne, you must come the command center immediately. We've found Gale and he's alive."

_Anybody out there? Please leave a review on your way out, they motivate me to write faster ;-)_


	3. Chapter 3: The Hole

**Chapter Three**

**The Hole**

Thanks to my betas, Belle453 and RoryFaller. All mistakes are mine.

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own the HG trilogy or any of the characters created by Suzanne Collins, although I sure wish I did.

Alpha Squad only took the riskiest missions, but this was one for the books. They were the best and regularly did the impossible, making the famed Star Squad look like a bunch of rank amateurs. This time, the objective was mission critical (it was ALWAYS mission critical) and the fate of the Rebellion hung in the balance, but it was just another day at the office for Gale and his squad. They were a tight knit group, a well-oiled machine.

The funny thing was, in the weeks and months since, Gale couldn't even remember exactly what this particular mission objective was. "That's what happens after half a dozen concussions," his first officer and childhood friend Thom Bartlett quipped. "Your brains get scrambled and it didn't help that you didn't have much to begin with!"

Gale did, however, remember every excruciating detail of the crash that landed them in the hell hole they were in now.

_It began with a thunderous crash from the rear of the hovercraft - a sound you never want to hear while flying-followed by an eerie stillness after the engines wound down to a screeching halt. The strong smell of jet fuel came next, as I made eye contact with my pilot, George Ryan. No words were necessary; we all knew we were going down. I quickly grabbed the com and yelled, "Brace for impact!"  
As I strapped myself in, I quickly ran through the impact scenarios, and none of them were any good. We could take the impact on the nose of the hover craft, flip and break up, leaving few if any survivors, just bodies, wreckage and lots of burning fuel. Or they could hit on the side and roll and flip with the same result. Either way, it wouldn't be pretty._

_The descent was rapid and violent, jarring the entire crew in their safety harnesses. I hoped that the safety upgrades were as effective as Beetee had promised. "We're not dying today, not on my watch," I yelled to my crew. I silently prayed to a God I wasn't sure I believed in at the time as I gripped my shoulder harness. It took everything in me to stay calm, but my crew was counting on me. I closed my eyes and thought about my girl. She was going to kill me if I died today.  
The intense impact of the craft was like nothing I had ever experienced - the dirt and debris flew through the front window, effectively crushing the front of the craft. Yet somehow the majority of the hovercraft remained intact. The downed craft somehow remained upright, a credit to the skill of Ryan. Damn shame he and the co-pilot, Hank Lee were killed in the impact. They were both good men. _

_To their credit, there was no panic, as the surviving members of the crew quickly exited the wrecked craft. They really are the best of the best. _

_In addition to the pilot and copilot, Gunners Opal Brooks and Laurel Guthrie were dead, blown out of the machine gun nest by the initial blast. Corporal Hugo Thorn was killed by shrapnel from that hit. Otherwise, everyone else made it out with just bumps and bruises. I owed Beetee a drink when we made it back. I really thought we were going to be OK.  
I changed my mind when the bombs started falling and the craft exploded, with all of our gear inside._

After the explosion, Alpha Squad was trapped behind enemy lines, General Gale Hawthorne and his crew began an odyssey most of them never imagined in their lives before the rebellion.

Ironically, the site of the crash was bombed shortly after by Mockingjay forces and the smoldering wreckage was all that remained when they successfully routed the Capitol forces. The tracking beacon for the hovercraft was located amid the twisted hull of the once proud craft, along with some badly charred, unidentifiable human remains. It was enough to have the entire squad declared killed in action and hailed as heroes of the rebellion. No one was looking for survivors.

_I knew that we were going to have to get ourselves out of this one, but I never doubted that we would. Alpha Squad does the impossible. I knew that we would do what had to be done in order to accomplish the mission and get home. Our motto is "__Adepto officium perfectus," which means "Get the job done." Each one of us had families waiting for us and it was my mission to see that we got the job done to get us back home. _

With no gear and injured soldiers on the run, the Alpha Squad was captured within a few days of the crash and taken to Camp Snow, high in the Black Mountains of what once was called North Carolina in the former United States. These mountains, blanketed in snow, were some of the tallest mountains in the Eastern Seaboard. However, the camp derived its name from President Coriolanus Snow, the ruthless president of Panem. The guards were brutal; beatings and torture were daily occurrence and a norm in the camp. The guards were not even above outright murder if they pleased.

_We were used to starvation, but the camp was like nothing we had ever experienced. The small amount of food we did get was rancid, the water frozen solid. I lost two more guys in the first month. Henry Frost and Jack Grant, both died from what we suspect was botulism from the spoiled food. I grew up with those boys – I dated Frost's sister and I taught Grant how to set a snare. _

_The guards were brutal, regularly pulling out prisoners for beatings. Broken bones and missing men were the norm. My team was safe for a while, because we came in healthy and we were in good shape. But, the longer we were there and the weaker we became, we weren't safe anymore. I was able to keep the guards at bay for a while, but it only worked for so long. We made it almost nine months before it all went to hell._

_One day, a guard singled out Cole Warner for a beating and I snapped. Warner was our field medic and a decent man, never a bad word to say about anyone. The guard killed Warner with an especially savage blow to the head and I just snapped. It took four guards to pull me off the bastard. _

_They dragged me to the Commander's office and I thought for sure I was a dead man. But nothing about this mission or my life has gone the way I thought it would, so why should this be any different? They decided not to kill me that day. No, they chose to make an example of me by throwing me in solitary until I broke. __Of course, this was after they treated me to an especially vicious beating which resulted in a dislocated shoulder, badly broken arm and perforated ear drum. They stepped up the beatings once they had me all to themselves. They were going to break me no matter what._

But Gale didn't break, He withstood the even worse treatment doled about by the especially sadistic guards who ran Solitary. What kept him going? He focused on surviving this so he could make it back to his girl and give her the "happily ever after" they had planned. Every night he dreamed about her and the life they would have after this was all over. He could take it, because he knew she was waiting for him. His faith in her was unshakable, his love for her was that great. But there was another reason: She had begged him not to join Alpha Squad and he didn't listen to her.

_I have a bad feeling about this, she had said. She tried to tell me, but I just wouldn't listen. Madge always was the smart one. I tried to distract her, but she just wouldn't let it go. She said that if anything happened to me, she didn't think that she could go on. She couldn't lose me like she did her parents. I get it, but I had no intention of dying. I was an idiot._

_We fought and she left me, but I knew she still loved me as much as I loved her. I was going to do my duty and then win her back after the war was over. So that's what kept me going. I had to get back for her, no matter what._

The camp was liberated a few weeks after Gale was taken to the Hole. His second in command, Thom held the remaining members of Alpha Squad together in Gale's absence and, for that, Gale would be forever grateful. Gale's physical wounds were healed, the effects of the starvation reversed. What finally broke the seasoned soldier? His video call to his mother.

After getting over the initial shock that he was actually alive, she informed Gale that his happily ever after was in danger. His hearing wasn't 100% and he initially thought he misheard her, but she was insistent.

_You have to get here right away, Gale! It's Madge. She was in such a bad way after we thought you died. We were so sure we had lost you and she just fell apart. She never stopped loving you, but she was in so much pain, Gale. _

_She went to The Abbey of __Pacis Quod Serenus__to get her head together and her last letter said she's decided to stay there. Gale, she's going to become a nun. It's a cloistered order, I can't get to her to change her mind. Believe me, I've tried. Maybe you can? You're military. You're a general, you have influence! If you don't do something, we'll never see her again. You've got to stop her, Gale!_


End file.
